Highland Sinner (30 page)

“Of course he would. The mon can display some honor, though nay much. He didnae ken about the boy.

Margaret Macauley was a stupid little whore. I think she believed he would marry her when he found out she carried his child. Sad to say there was no chance that he could be told so that he might believe it or doubt it, for she was sent to a nunnery shortly after she bedded the bastard. Her family realized at last that she had the soul of a whore and sent her to get purified by the power of the church. I was there at the time and she told me all about her great love for Tormand.”

There was a bitter tone to the woman’s voice with a hint of a growing temper. “Why didnae she send word to him?” Morainn asked. “He would have helped.”

“She did send word to him, but all those sweet love letters telling him how she was carrying his child beneath her heart, a heart that beat only for him, ne’er made it to him.”

“Because she trusted ye to see that he got them.”

“Ye are a verra clever lass, arenae ye?” Ada did not look as if she appreciated that. “But, alas, the poor lass died shortly after bearing a son. Bled to death. Happens at a birth, ye ken.”

Especially when aided by an insane woman, Morainn thought. She glanced toward Walin to see him staring at the woman with wide eyes, his little face pale. This had to be hurting him. Walin was a very clever boy and Morainn was sure that he understood everything this woman said, probably understood all she was not saying directly as well. She prayed that he would have the courage to speak to Tormand if Morainn did not escape this trap.

Walin’s parentage was of no consequence at the moment, nor was the sad and tragic fate of his mother.

All that she should be thinking of was how to get Walin out of the reach of these two insane people. She could not openly order the boy to run, for Morainn was sure the hulking great Small would catch Walin before he could get away, even if Walin knew how to get out without going to the door. She had not had the time to point out where the bolt-hole was. She was going to have to depend on the cleverness of the boy to figure out when to run and where to go, and Morainn was sure that was a lot to ask of a little boy.

“How did Walin end up at my doorstep then?” Morainn asked, honestly curious even if most of her questions were simply intended to keep the woman talking as Morainn tried to think of some way to free Walin.

“Weel, I thought having a bairn would get Tormand to notice me so I took it home with me.” She shrugged, but there was a tightness to the gesture that told Morainn the woman was getting angry just remembering that time. “I didnae like the nunnery anyway. My parents thought the bairn was mine and
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they were ready to confront Tormand, to make him marry me. Then my father decided that it was best to be sure I wasnae lying and he had a midwife determine my virginity. Of course I hadnae thought of that and my ruse was revealed. They took the baby and gave him to one of the servant women to raise. They then made me marry that fat pig.”

The woman’s temper was rising rapidly and Morainn could almost smell a wildness in the air, the sharp scent of uncontrolled emotion. Morainn wanted to hear the whole sordid tale, but she began to think it might have been unwise to urge the woman to tell the rest of the story. She felt as if she had just prodded a snake.

“Weel, they have all paid. All of them. And that fat pig my father made me marry isnae so verra fat anymore, is he? And the servant woman who took the bairn and ruined my chance to claim Tormand as my own paid too. That is when the lad was brought here. I would have come and gotten him after I rid myself of the traitor who took the bairn away, but I was forced to marry that fat pig.”

Just the way the woman said
all of them
told Morainn that Ada’s parents had paid dearly for making their child do what she did not wish to do. Ada seemed to be implying that she had also killed the maid, mayhap her own mother and father, and someone who had supposedly betrayed her by bringing Walin to Morainn’s doorstep. Morainn did not know what to do in the presence of such madness. A quick glance at Small told her that, although Ada appeared to be lost in her memories of all the wrongs done her, he was alert and watching her.

“What was the betrayal?” she felt compelled to ask.

“Weel, the fool was to kill the boy and leave him at Tormand’s door. I had written a verra eloquent note to tell Tormand that his son lost his life because of Tormand’s own sins. I felt sure that would hurt the fool. He may be a cruel bastard to women, caring nothing for them except for bedding them, but I kenned that he loved the bairns. But, nay, the mon ruined my idea and it was a good one. ’Tis unfair that I must always be surrounded by fools, save my wonderful Small who has never let me down.”

“Enough, m’lady,” the man said in his deep rumbling voice. “It is time for us to leave this place.”

“Oh, those fools willnae be back any time soon. The witch wishes to ken a few things ere she dies. ’Tis only courteous to tell her what she needs to know.” She reached up to pat his chest. “We will leave soon, Small. I ken that ye are eager to make the witch pay for our injuries.” Ada looked at Morainn and smiled. “Old Ide healed our injuries verra nicely and I discovered that she hates ye. That is what I used to make her help us. She truly thinks ye are the one behind all these murders, although I think she just convinces herself of that so that she may get ye hanged. She wants ye dead, witch. The old fool was willing to do anything we wanted just so that would happen.”

A woman who killed people over imagined slights mocking another woman who imagined an enemy where there was none? A woman who wanted to kill an innocent child just to hurt someone and then killed the person who could not bring himself to obey her order finding Ide’s need to kill a rival something to disdain? Morainn felt all that was as great a proof of the woman’s insanity as anything. She also should not be so surprised that Old Ide would do anything to see her dead, for she had done the same with Morainn’s mother. It was beginning to look as though the woman would be victorious again.

Small moved to reach out and grab Morainn. She took one step back, frantically wondering where she could go and how she could take Walin with her, when Bonegnasher suddenly leapt in to help her. Small howled when the dog latched onto his arm. Morainn started to run toward Walin only to be leapt on by Ada. The woman acted very much like William had when the cat had leapt on Ada. It took all of Morainn’s attention just to save her eyes from the woman’s long nails.

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A yelp caught her attention. As Morainn turned, intending to slam the slightly smaller woman against the wall, she caught a brief look at Bonegnasher lying limply against the wall a few feet away. When she finally managed to slam the woman against the wall, Ada screeched so loud Morainn’s ears started to hurt. A high cry of anger came from Morainn’s right as she shook free of the dazed woman’s hold and Morainn saw Walin racing over to Small. She cried out in alarm and moved toward Walin to stop him.

Small swung out with his arm, the blood dripping from it making a gruesome arc, as he hit Walin.

Morainn watched in horror as Walin’s little body seemed to fly through the air. He landed on the bed, but before a sense of relief had even begun to grow in her, Walin bounced a few times and fell off the other side with a sickening thump. She started to go to him only to be yanked to a halt by Small’s thick, calloused hand grabbing her by the arm. He twisted it up behind her back until even breathing caused her a searing pain in her arm. Morainn watched as Ada shook herself and then walked over to glare at her.

“I will so enjoy killing ye, witch,” Ada said.

“M’lady, we really should get out of here,” Small said. “The men could be back and they might be able to stop ye from getting what ye want.”

“As ye wish.” Ada started toward the door.

“Walin,” Morainn said, wanting to ask if she could see to the boy and yet knowing there would be no mercy shown by either of these people.

“Ye come along quietly and I willnae have Small come back and cut the lad’s throat.”

There was no other choice but to nod and allow herself to be dragged along by Small as the man and his mistress discussed the best way to get to whatever hovel they planned to kill her in. As Small started to pull her out of the room she called back to Walin, “I love ye, Walin. Tell Tormand that I will ne’er stop dreaming of him.”

Small slapped her on the side of the head so hard, her ears rang and Morainn began to pray as she was dragged away. She prayed that Walin had not been badly hurt. She also prayed that Tormand and the others would return soon so that they could help the boy. She prayed her lover would understand the message she had been sending him and also prayed that little Walin had been conscious enough to hear it.

They stepped outside into a sunny day and she prayed that it would not rain so that there might be a trail the men could follow to come to save her. She then began to pray for herself as Small threw her over his saddle, knocking all the breath from her body.

“Who is Geordie?” Tormand asked Simon.

Tormand needed to talk; he needed to be distracted so that he could stop thinking of what might be happening to Morainn. Everything within him was screaming that he had to get to her, yet there he stood while the horses were watered and allowed to cool down a bit. He knew the stop in his mad race back to the tower house was a necessary one. It would help no one if the horses were injured or killed because they had been pushed too hard. He knew he needed his horse because he could not run or fly to the tower house. That did not make standing there while Morainn was in danger any easier to bear.

“He was my father’s second,” replied Simon.

“Second? Ye are the son of a laird then, are ye?” Tormand decided he must look as crazed with worry as he felt, for Simon never spoke of his past or his family, except in the most vague terms, and was
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obviously doing so now just to distract him.

“Second son. My older brother Henry is the laird now. Geordie left shortly after I did. My three younger brothers are,” Simon paused and then shrugged, “somewhere. My two sisters were married off shortly after their first flux, but they seem to have fared weel enough. I e’en hear from them now and then. Henry is a mon ye dinnae wish to linger with. Brutal, especially with women. I ken at least two he probably killed with his
affections
. I believe he killed our father, too, and some day I will prove it.”

“
Jesu
, Simon,” Tormand muttered, sure he looked as shocked as his kinsmen did. “’Tis nay wonder that ye never speak of your kin.”

Simon smiled faintly. “Old memories. I havenae been back there since I was ten years old. I went to visit the family at Michaelmas that year. I should have stayed with the family that was fostering me as they had asked me to. When I returned to them after the visit, the only time I left them after that and went home was to see my father buried three years later.”

“And ye really think Henry killed the mon?” asked Harcourt.

“I am as sure as I can be of anything that is recalled from a time when I was more boy than mon. I think the fact that Henry has blood on his hands, our father’s and that of several women, is why I work so hard to punish those who break our laws, nay matter if they are the ones of the church or the king. I suspicion Henry hasnae changed much over the years since I last saw him. When Geordie found me one day he told me why he had left the only home he had ever kenned. Henry grew more obviously brutal once my father’s restraining hand was off the reins. Geordie refused to make his oath to a mon like Henry and so he left.”

“He is a good mon,” Simon said, as he looked around at the Murrays and Walter. “He had no part in this.”

“I ken it,” said Tormand. “’Twas that bitch Old Ide. She deserves a far harsher punishment than being scared nigh unto death by ye. I just cannae think of what that might be, seeing as ye promised Old Geordie that ye wouldnae hang her.”

“I did, didnae I?” Simon smiled faintly. “I didnae, however, promise nay to punish her in some way. Ye see, Ide has good reason to fear that Morainn will take her place as midwife and healer here. Ide is nay verra good at her craft. In truth, she has killed a few people with her clumsy, ignorant methods, and, I believe, her utter disdain for the healing that can be done with a good use of soap and water.”

“Are ye going to try and have her charged with the murder of those people?”

“Nay, for that will get her hanged and I promised Geordie I wouldnae do that, didnae I? That doesnae mean that I cannae make verra certain that, slowly, whisper by whisper, it becomes verra clear to a lot of people that ye will be risking life and limb if ye call upon Old Ide to come and heal ye or bring your bairn into this world.”

Tormand shook his head in admiration. “Sneaky. I like it.” He could not stop himself from glancing in the direction of the tower house again.

“The horses have rested enough,” Simon said and immediately mounted his. “A steady, even pace and we will be there soon.”

Simon had barely finished speaking before Tormand was in the saddle and riding toward the tower house. He felt such a need to reach Morainn that it was hard to follow Simon’s advice about keeping a
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steady, even gait. He ached to spur his horse into a gallop, demanding that the beast go as fast as it could. Every instinct he had told him that they would be too late, that the trap Ide had helped set for Morainn had already closed around his love.

His love
. The words hit Tormand so hard he nearly fell out of the saddle. He loved Morainn. It was so clear to him now that the words had entered his head. They had been in his heart from the moment he had first seen her, first looked into her beautiful sea-blue eyes. Tormand had to wonder why he had fought against it so hard, especially since he knew he did not want to return to his heedless bouncing from bed to bed, being intimate with women he quickly forgot. He wanted Morainn and only Morainn.